Letters and Plots
by btvshond
Summary: Ever since graduation, Hermione's been writing to Snape. But Severus doesn't write back! So what happens when he no longer receives any letter from her? Complete.
1. Chapter 1

Letters and Plots  
  
Disclaimers: Do we need disclaimers? (looks incredulous, then grumbles) Okay, okay. Every character belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
Chapter 1: In which Severus Snape receives yet another letter from Hermione Granger  
  
[Dear Professor Snape,  
  
Congratulations on your brilliant presentation at the Potions Masters' Convention that took place five nights ago. Regrettably, I could not attend it, but the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall were kind enough to send me a detailed account of the evening.  
  
Apparently, you have not lost that acerbic wit of yours, to put it very very very mildly. Happily, now that I have graduated from Hogwarts and hence have no fear of your punishing me, I can tell you plainly that I was howling with laughter together with Crookshanks over the more interesting and colourful incidents. You will probably glare and sneer as you are wont to do, but you can be amusing when a person is not at the end of your attacks.  
  
The reason why I am especially busy of late is due to a breakthrough Professor Balabus has made, regarding the Imperio Curse. Professor Balabus is especially excited about the possibility that a countercurse can be developed. Hopefully, things will go well.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Hermione Granger  
  
P.S. Just so you know, the speech you gave in the convention has been contributed to the Witchcraft and Wizardry Magazine. No doubt it will be published. I shall look forward to it.]  
  
Severus Snape moaned slightly when he read the postscript. It was a double catastrophe. A speech he had not prepared to be read by every student in the school, in a magazine set by, of all the nightmarish editors, the Fred and George clownish twins. One would expect them to be sober after being active participants in the War. And he did not have to think who the culprit was who gave his speech away.  
  
Bloody Albus Dumbledore, he fumed. Later on, his wry humour asserted itself again. He smiled resignedly to himself. He always had a soft spot for the old wizard, though he would never admit in so many words. Besides, he and his mentor had an understanding that stood against the tests defiantly for years.  
  
Not that he cared much how his students and other readers were going to react to what he had previously said. There would simply be a 'controversial' debate about the finer points in his argument before everyone moved on. Truth be told, he was concentrating on this unimportant piece of news in order to turn his musings away from the Impertinent Chit that was Hermione Granger.  
  
How else could one explain the fact that after graduating for two years, she was still constantly writing to him? Oh, she did write regularly to Minerva, Albus and the rest, but it was unnecessary for her to write to him. It was not as though their relationship took leaps and bounds in bringing them closer together in her last years here. A treacherous whisper crept into his mind. No, not in the progression of teacher-student relationship, but in another direction. . . Severus slammed the door shut, locked it and threw away the key into the darkest corners in his head.  
  
Did she imagine that he would act any different toward her after she left? Did she actually hope that he would regard her letters as significant in his daily life? That he would be touched and the greasy git attitude would simply melt away? That they could embark onto amicable terms? For even though she always addressed him as professor, the tone of her letters suggested otherwise. She genuinely wanted him as a friend.  
  
He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose hard. So many complications, all thanks to her. Did she expect gratitude?  
  
'She'll have to wait for me to dress up as Gilderoy Lockhart before that happens,' he said out loud to the wall opposite him. He snorted at the disturbing imagery floating in his mind.  
  
'Really? I'm disappointed.'  
  
Severus spurned round and lashed out at Albus, 'Do I have so little respect these days that one does not have to knock before he enters my office?'  
  
'At least it is not your private chambers that I choose to barge into.' There was an unmistakable twinkle in Albus' eye.  
  
Severus swept haughtily to his seat and sat down. Waving a chair across his table, he indicated for the Headmaster to join him.  
  
'Thank you Severus. Is there a lemon meringue to add to the hospitality?'  
  
'There's tea, if you trust a Potions Master to brew it.'  
  
'By all means! No one makes tea like a Potions Master.'  
  
Severus shrugged. Waving the kettle to the fireplace using his wand, he allowed the water to boil before lifting the kettle towards the table. He was loathe to show it, but there was something soothing in doing something as mundane as making tea.  
  
'Ah,' said Albus in satisfaction. 'This tea is of the highest grade Severus. I must remember to visit you more often.'  
  
'You come often enough Albus.'  
  
'You may feel that way for I am your only guest.' Severus noted the slight rebuke in Albus' voice.  
  
Severus smiled grimly, 'It may be because it takes sheer blind bravado to come into my rooms without my explicit permission.'  
  
'What are the consequences?' Albus asked lightly as he sipped his tea.  
  
Severus stared intently at the row of bottles lining the shelf near him, containing preserved. . . best to just call them things.  
  
'Severus. . .'  
  
Severus smirked, 'Now, now, Albus. There's no harm in frightening the students occasionally.'  
  
'I'm glad you maintain such a healthy interest in the students' well being,' countered Albus dryly.  
  
'Naturally. What is it that you wish to see me for?'  
  
Albus stirred the spoon in his cup slowly. 'Messrs. Fred and George Weasley have owled me. . .'  
  
Severus shook his head, 'You must think yourself very clever for sending that behind my back.'  
  
'I thought it would be a pleasant surprise. It'll be the feature for next week,' Albus finished his tea and poured himself another cup, 'I suppose it was Miss Granger who informed you about it in her letter.' He cast an overtly curious eye at the cream paper Severus had placed on the table.  
  
Severus followed the direction of Albus' sight. He looked at Albus, surprised. 'How did you know?' He might have piled heaps of disapproval upon Gryffindors, but he knew Hermione to be discreet. Surely she did not tell everyone in the world that she was writing to the batty bastard in Hogwarts?  
  
The gears in his head whirled to a halt. Hermione? When the hell did he start calling that girl Hermione?  
  
'Oh, a useful combination of logic and intuition,' Albus replied ambiguously.  
  
Severus valiantly fought against scowling.  
  
Albus smiled. He stood up. 'Thank you for the tea Severus. Shall we see you in the Hall for dinner?'  
  
'Not tonight Professor. There are several things I have to take care of.' Severus made his excuses on the spot. He wanted to prevent Minerva from expounding him with further news of that Gryffindor.  
  
'If you say so. Don't overwork yourself, and sleep early. You spent quite a lot of effort for that convention.'  
  
'The next thing you'll be telling me is to drink a glass of milk,' Severus said morosely, 'You treat me like an inept child sometimes.'  
  
'At age one hundred and fifty-six, forty seems young. And you are very immature in some ways, laddie.'  
  
'I!' Severus protested, 'Immature!'  
  
But Albus had already slipped away to avoid Severus' wrath.  
  
'What in Merlin's name did you mean by immaturity Albus?' Severus turned his attention at the girl's letter. He was not stupid. Albus had never called him immature, even when it came to his grudge with Black. He suspected Albus was referring to his response, or more appropriately, lack of response, regarding her letters. Did everyone believe it was a matter of etiquette, that he should return her letters?  
  
'Damn, damn, and damn again!' He snatched the letter and intended to rip it into tiny, tiny pieces.  
  
His hands refused to listen to him. Instead, they soothed the creases in the paper and opened the table drawer. They took out a wooden box and placed the latest letter on top of the stack that had grown in thickness since he used the box to contain her letters. He repeated to himself over and over that there was no specific reason why he kept them. It was merely a whim.  
  
He called her Miss Granger in public, but he always thought of her as she, her, the girl, or the infuriating know-it-all. He pondered over the fluke that occurred only several minutes ago.  
  
He gave up. No revelation came. His head was buzzing and he came to a conclusion. There were indeed times when one should heed the advice of one's seniors.  
  
He decided to turn into bed at once.  
  
~***~  
  
Author's Note: Balabus is derived from the latin word balbus for stammering, stuttering, fumbling. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: In which Hermione writes of her latest research to Hogwarts  
  
[Dear Professor Flitwick,  
  
Thank you for the encouragement you have given me.  
  
Professor Balabus and I stay keen and determined to find a solution to the many curses that are still in the midst of the wizarding world. We are, of course, only one of the several groups in the Ministry working towards our goal, but do not worry, we will all prevail!  
  
Your suggestions have been most helpful, as usual. This letter comes together with the compliments of Professor Balabus. He's especially keen to meet you, to how did he put it? Yes, to share and pluck the nerve fibres in your much esteemed head. It does not make for a very picturesque metaphor, does it? I was suitably grossed out.  
  
It is generous of you and Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall to invite me to visit Hogwarts for a week, now that the holidays have started. I have made the arrangements and look forward to the stay.  
  
Yours sincerely,  
  
Hermione Granger]  
  
'All right, you impatient Beak. Come here and stay still.' Hermione beckoned the grey speckled owl and tied the letter to his leg, 'You will behave, won't you? I'll hate it if Professor Flitwick writes to say how greedy you were.'  
  
The owl, whose name ranged from Beak, to Bouncing Bird, to Bobbing Boat, to any name that Hermione could think of that started with 'B', gave his owner a playful peck before flying away.  
  
Hermione grinned. No matter how busy she was, she made it a point to write to her teachers and friends so that she could be in contact with them and know what they were up to. Her parents, she went for a weekend stay at their home whenever she could. It was fortunate her parents were understanding and trusted their daughter to know she took responsibility in the decisions she made.  
  
She swept up the pile off papers on her table and filed them neatly. Beni Balabus was quite particular about tidiness. His working place was practically the epitome of 'Dirt Is Unheard Of'. At least, it was what all the other colleagues called it. Hermione did not mind. Beni was a valuable member among the Charms researchers and a fast friend.  
  
Hermione prepared her notes before joining Beni. They had immersed themselves for weeks trying to solve the mystery behind the Imperio curse. Whilst others such as the fatal Avada Kedavra were recently developed and many knew of the source of the power, Imperio was an ancient spell woven from various forms of dark and elemental dark magic that required greater delving into. She and Beni had been careful not to be swallowed and controlled by the blackness of their studies. And even though it did not seem as important as neutralising the Killing Curse, it was as urgent. Despite the fall of Voldemort, there were Dark Wizards lurking everywhere. Not all the Death-Eaters had been captured and punished.  
  
Whenever her train of thought reached this junction, she would inevitably think of him. Gods no, Snape was not a part of that terrible group anymore. He had not been since before her birth. Nonetheless, she did think of him.  
  
She had always admired Snape for his intelligence even in her first year. Not that he would suspect, or believe it. He seldom believed any sane person would think well of him. She learnt that when she was forced to help him in her sixth and seventh year in a bid to defeat the Dark Lord, as Snape referred to him. She had learnt many things about him, the most significant and heart-wrenching being that forgiveness was something he would never apply to himself. He fought for redemption, but nothing he did brought reconciliation between him and his conscience. He loathed himself, utterly and deeply to the core, even Harry had acknowledged that after working with him. Harry, Ron and Hermione had tried to extend their friendship toward him, albeit cautiously. As expected, he savaged them with his tongue. They did not mention it to each other, but the Trio had come to a silent agreement that Snape was worthy of respect. He deserved more. They had witnessed too much of his activity to bind him to the stereotype of him when they were younger.  
  
Two years after, Dumbledore glossed over the facts, but she gathered that he was still somewhat of a recluse, sarcastic, mean and. . . Snapish.  
  
In the beginning, she wrote to him because she thought it was rude to write everyone else except him. Slowly, she realised she wanted to. She wanted him to know how her day was, her joy and frustration, her ups and downs. She wanted him to know there were people who cared for him, who thought of him. She wanted him to know that outside his sanctuary and prison that was Hogwarts, there were those friendly towards him.  
  
However, there were reservations in her letters. Unlike others, she ended each of his with 'Sincerely', and not 'Yours sincerely'. She did not understand why. Was it because it sounded too intimate? She blushed. Hogwash.  
  
She shook her head in melancholy. She was hurt by the absence of letters from him. She always wondered if he growled over her letter, and declared it to be a waste of his time reading it. She always tried to suppress the childish hope that he might be touched and write back.  
  
'I should have known he's just a hard-hearted, no, the man doesn't have a heart, he's just a cold, bleak. . . and cold man.' Hermione grimaced as she heard herself talk. It did not even sound convincing to her ears. In fact, it sounded lame, like the grumbling of a grouchy four-year-old.  
  
Damn the man for ruining her day and making her guilty at her uncharitable thoughts. Snape had troubles enough. More than enough. Why could he not find peace? The community would be a happier place if he accepted his past and moved on.  
  
She stepped into Beni's office.  
  
'Ah, Hermione! You. . . you see, don. . . don't you, that th. . . the comp. . . compounds mix themselves to p. . . produce the ast. . . astounding effects.' Beni dragged Hermione to his table.  
  
'And a hello to you Beni.'  
  
Beni was the kind of people who started a conversation by plunging into the middle, thinking they would be able to follow his line of mental activity, which was swift and erratic in itself. In addition, he was prone to stuttering when he became too agitated in his work. Fortunately, Hermione could cope with him.  
  
They became involved in an eager discussion of the mechanics behind Imperio, striving to untangle every strand.  
  
'It's evolved from cruder forms in the olden days. . .'  
  
'There. . . There's the li. . . list we came up. . .'  
  
'Showing the major steps leading to the present. . .'  
  
'It requir. . . requires er. . . dee. . . deep concentration on. . . th. . . the part of the caster. . .'  
  
'Not just brute strength and almighty power. . .'  
  
'Manipulation. . .'  
  
'Control. . .'  
  
They spent the better part of the afternoon brushing up their report to be handed in to their Head of Department. When done, Hermione tossed her feather pen up to the ceiling in celebration. Their work was executed smoothly and they were immensely satisfied.  
  
'D. . . Do you want to go have dinner?' Exhaustion seeped through Beni's voice.  
  
'I'd rather go home.'  
  
'I'm gl. . . glad. I could use a shut-eye myself. Collect your items and we'll head out.'  
  
Hermione stretched herself and yawned. She walked drowsily out of the office, not noticing the two shadows around the corner.  
  
Beak had returned for long while. Hermione stroked his feathers idly as she packed.  
  
'Be a dear and fly home. I'll reach there soon.'  
  
She took her briefcase and went back to Beni. She thought of the well- deserved cookies and cream ice-cream she would indulge in and the night movie 'The Fiddler on the Roof' she had rented from a nearby Muggle store. Her mood perked up and she began whistling to fill up the silence surrounding, her mind too drained to be aware of the implications. Opening the door, she said in a light-hearted manner, 'Come on Beni, I'm ready to leave.'  
  
~***~  
  
Author's Note:  
  
Beni is derived from the latin word benigne: kindly, generously. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: In which Severus receives no word of Hermione Granger  
  
Severus was very tempted, very tempted indeed. He looked up at the fire close to him, burning bright and strong. His fingers twitched, eager to throw the whole pile of the students' assignments into the fireplace. Perhaps he should. That would teach the dunderheads to treat Potions seriously.  
  
He sneered and pushed their papers away to the other edge of his table. Halfway through marking, he had gone from thinking them laughable, horrified, enraged, to scratching a vicious cross over most of the assignments monotonously. He felt a headache storming within.  
  
Why were there always more idiots than people who at least strove for the best? Why could it not be the other way around? He did not even want to bother counting the few who were exceptionally intelligent.  
  
The past week was terrible. A record high in accidents in the Potions classroom (he knew it was an ominous idea to have Weaseley triplets and Longbottom twins in one room), a flourish of loud activity as Black visited the staff (the man was incorrigible ever since his name was cleared), the House-Elves barging into his stores again (not the private ones obviously, but he must renew the wards), and plenty more. There was no relief, unless one counted Black slipping off his broom while boasting his rusty skills. It was not enough to balance out the torture he had undergone. And there was no letter from the Granger girl to lift the mood up.  
  
Only after missing her letters for a week did he realise how precious they had become. They were a window to the outside world. More importantly, they were a testament to how life had changed for the better after Voldemort was vanquished. They showed him that what he had done, whilst insufficient in redeeming himself, was worth it. All the swirling darkness he had willingly, though fearfully, stepped into had paid off. There were future generations that need not live as their forefathers did, shrouded in uncertainty and chaos.  
  
He wondered why she had stopped writing. He did not dare ask Minerva or anyone else whether it was the same case for them. He did not wish to show that it bothered him to such an extent. He did not wish to expose the fact that he was vulnerable to another's attitude toward him.  
  
He presumed the others still got their regular mail from her. Perhaps she had finally tired of him. Perhaps she had finally accustomed herself to the knowledge that no one could move the ex-Death-Eater.  
  
Only, she had. But she would never know.  
  
Now his world was filled with empty memories.  
  
He reminisced the period he had worked with her, trying to recollect what kind of character she was. There was an astonishing revelation of how compatible they were in their methods. Unlike her every attempt in getting his attention in class, she was neither demanding nor domineering, trusting him unconditionally to do what was rational and right. He did not appreciate it at that time.  
  
She also took pains to understand his unreasonable mood-swings and went along with him, always trying not to disturb him. She was not dumb. She took up the initiative when crucial, pointing out the correct direction when he was too perturbed. Towards the end of her school-term, he found her presence not just a necessary tool, but an enjoyable companionship as well. Somehow, she was sensitive to his emotions despite his efforts to hide them. It did not worry him. He was at ease with her. Sometimes, they talked together. He did not think her crystal clear laughter and sharp wit had affected him then.  
  
She had grown to be an exceptional woman. Taking out a yearbook, he flipped the pages until he came to her photograph, captured when she was in her seventh year.  
  
That bushy mop of hair tugged the corners of his mouth up. He always poked fun at it in front of her. In retaliation, she had snapped about the 'sleekness' of his own. Underhanded, that one. She would make a fine Slytherin, and he did not mean it in the Malfoy sort.  
  
Severus looked on pensively. Her eyes were amber, he had not noticed that before. He reckoned they were her best features, sparkling with intelligence and forthrightness. They were truly the windows to her mind and soul. The girl in the picture waved at him, appearing to be genuinely pleased to see him. Her mouth widened into a sweet smile, showing her teeth. Severus snorted in amusement. He remembered the incident in her fourth year. He did not regret mocking her. It tickled him.  
  
The girl huffed good-naturedly and tilted her head in exasperation. She wagged a finger at him, as if to chide him.  
  
Severus snapped the book shut and moped over his loss. He was threatening to sink into depression, all due to a slip of girl. At his age too! He scoffed. He could deal with this. It was far from a crisis.  
  
A stray thought pounded insistently in his addled brain. Supposing he wrote to her, thanking her for her letters? And pray, he countered ruthlessly, what difference would it make? He refused to delve into sentimental nonsense in order to appease a student he had not seen for years. Albus would call it stubborn pride, but he knew it was common sense. The girl had given up on him. Why drag her in again?  
  
Grimly satisfied with his decision, Severus went on to mark the rest of the homework.  
  
After he finished, he proceeded to have dinner in the Hall. He had an overwhelming need of noise. It distracted him. However, when he entered the Hall, the first suspicion he had was that everyone had been Petrified. All the students were assembled and the food spread as abundantly and sumptuously as usual, yet not one stirred visibly. His eyes reached the far end of the Hall in alarm. His colleagues were motionless. Many were pale in face. Minerva's was pinched as it was wont to do when she heard grave news. Flitwick was hiccuping amidst tears, and Albus. he had not seen the Headmaster this severe for a long while.  
  
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he walked to the staff table, stealing glances at the students. He noted that several were devastated and their friends failed to comfort them.  
  
What in all that the Four Founders held sacred was going on? He seemed to be the only one not privy to the earth-shattering news.  
  
He conveyed his exact sentiments to Albus. Albus raised his weary eyes and met the younger pair of inquisitive dark eyes.  
  
'The Ministry's reverted into their habit of hiding their troubles from us once more,' Albus informed him cryptically.  
  
'The children whose parents worked in the Charms Department have not received mail from them and we haven't received any from Miss Granger. I checked with the Ministry but they persisted in keeping mute initially.'  
  
Severus' spirits started sinking lower into the abyss.  
  
'Even Arthur didn't know what had happened. Two hours ago, a fast news bulletin from the Daily Prophet revealed that one of its reporters uncovered the secret. The Charms Department had been wiped out last week.'  
  
'Wiped out?' Severus suppressed the urge of imagining what it meant.  
  
'The whole place was in a mess. All the researchers were missing, together with several materials.'  
  
'Materials?' The surroundings were hush, almost surreal.  
  
'The Ministry had not disclosed the details yet. Severus, by any chance did Miss Granger tell you what she was working on?'  
  
'Imperio.'  
  
'Yes, I fear that they have been kidnapped for their knowledge. They may prove useful for them.' Albus did not say whom 'them' referred to.  
  
Severus watched the old wizard bow his head. How many more upheavals did Albus Dumbledore have to overcome?  
  
There had been peace! Severus' mind reeled. The Dark Wizards had lost all power at the end of the war. Did they wish to start from scratch? But it was madness to believe they could succeed! Or was it so reckless? They did manage to break into the Ministry, did they not? The wards were set up by some of the finest minds. Was there a traitor in the Ministry? If so, his heart beat rapidly, he was responsible for it. His spying duties had not fully accomplished the task of finding out the names of all the followers of Voldemort.  
  
'Do not blame yourself Severus.' Albus' voice drifted to his ear. Seeing him, Severus knew Albus had come to the same conclusions as to the cause of the incident and that Severus would reprimand himself.  
  
'Whoever helped them might not have been a Death-Eater.' Albus placed a thin, wrinkled hand on Severus' arm. 'Come, sit by me and have dinner. We'll work this out.'  
  
Severus obeyed mutely. So, they wanted to lead the world again, did they? And there he was, selfishly feeling sorry for himself when it did not occur to him that Hermione could have had been in difficulty, as she was now. Oh gods, he felt sick. His brain malfunctioned. He failed to grasp who were involved and what they were planning. His mind was filled with desperate hope that Hermione was safe. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: In which Hermione finds herself locked up  
  
Hermione moaned and stirred into consciousness at last. She struggled to open her eyes, and for a moment, feared she had gone blind. She quickly calmed herself. Her eyes slowly became accustomed to the darkness of her. . . cell.  
  
It was large and airy, although slightly damp. She felt the cold stone slabs beneath her, her thin blouse and long skirt inadequate in protecting her. Her already numb limbs were already chilled to the bone.  
  
She shivered. Looking around bewilderedly, she came to the conclusion it was empty except for a moving bundle. a person hurdled in a corner several feet away from her.  
  
'Hermione? Is that you? I can't see pro. . . properly.' Beni's hollow voice drifted into her ears.  
  
'Beni!' cried Hermione in relief. She had been afraid that the other inmate was a stranger. 'What happened?'  
  
'I. . . Two men. . . One stunned me. I can't remember much. My head's still groggy.'  
  
Hermione frowned in concentration. The silence. . . that was it. It was too quiet back in the Ministry. They had been attacked. She could only recall how she had stepped inside Beni's office and immediately felt a painful shot at the centre of her back, before she had passed out.  
  
Were the other researchers taken too? How long had they been here? Where were they? Who were the culprits?  
  
Hermione winced as she crawled into a sitting position. Her back still hurt. Whoever attacked her was a powerful person. She had felt the strength behind the spell that knocked her out.  
  
'Beni, I don't know what's going on,' Hermione rubbed her neck to relax the tension in her muscles. 'Did anything happen while I was unconscious?'  
  
'No. I found out from my watch that ten hours have passed since our er. . . departure from the office.'  
  
'Ten hours?' Hermione echoed in shock. Surely she had not been that weak.  
  
'If my watch remains its accuracy.' Beni walked hesitantly and sat down beside Hermione. 'Do you think it's some Dark wizard?'  
  
'I'll say it's an organised group,' Hermione related her suspicion.  
  
She saw the outline of Beni's head shaking vigorously, 'You mean, the whole team of us has been captured? But the wards and the prevention methods we've erected round the building!'  
  
'Apparently, they were not enough,' Hermione shivered again. Beni wrapped his arm round her arms in brotherly comfort.  
  
'Thanks,' she said gratefully.  
  
'So, do you think it's someone inside who let them in?'  
  
'I can't imagine who the traitor can be. Then again, I should be one who knows that appearances always deceive.'  
  
'Don't fret too much.' Beni was about to say more, but he stopped abruptly when footsteps were heard outside their cell. Both of them instantly froze.  
  
The door opened with a loud bang. The sudden flood of yellow bright light pierced Hermione's eyes and hurt them. Her hand shot out to shield them rapidly. She squinted against her will and saw an-all-too-familiar face.  
  
'Crabbe?' she spat out in ill-disguised outrage. He had not changed and was as fat and dull-witted as before.  
  
'Mudblood Granger,' Vincent Crabbe said pompously, with the triumphant air of a bully swooping down to his prey.  
  
Hermione cringed and glared furiously. Here stood one of the reputed tormentors of Muggleborns, and yet he had emerged unscathed from the war. Together with others, he had been scot-free simply because there was no evidence. No scrap of paper, no living witnesses besides dead corpses, to give a bare hint of the atrocities they had committed.  
  
Her hand crept to her pocket, though she knew in her heart of hearts that her wand could not be there anymore.  
  
Crabbe laughed harshly and waved his wand in front of her.  
  
'Someone's lost her wand. . .' he chanted in a singsong manner. He would have taunted her further were not for the gruff voice of Gregory Goyle.  
  
'Stop fooling around. He doesn't like waiting.'  
  
Crabbe turned his head and mumbled, presumably to Goyle, as Hermione could not see anyone other than Crabbe who was blocking the doorway. There was vulgar laughter. She supposed some crude joke was exchanged.  
  
The hallways she and Beni walked down were magnificent and grotesque, calculated to inspire wonder and awe, but doomed to instill disgust and disbelief, at least in Hermione. She found them tasteless, a failure of imitation at the elegance of a bygone age. The statues were fake and the paintings soulless. The colours clashed. Spying the nameplate of one marble bust, she realised the house they were in belonged to Goyle.  
  
Goyle led the two captives while Crabbe pushed and shoved them along.  
  
'There's no need for crassness!' Beni said indignantly. 'We can walk.'  
  
He received a punch in the stomach. Hermione heard him cry.  
  
'Stop it!' Hermione said hurriedly, 'You're wasting time.'  
  
It distracted Crabbe sufficiently. Hermione helped hold Beni for a while as he limped forward. She heard him mutter, 'Stupid bastard.' She did not remember him sprouting vulgarities before. It unnerved her.  
  
Her thoughts carried her nowhere. She focussed on the path they took and memorised it. Soon, they reached a spacious room, which she guessed was the Goyle family's library. And in the seat placed deliberately in the centre of the room, was Draco Malfoy.  
  
She had not seen him since his father was arrested by the Aurors and put to trial. This time, the Order of the Phoenix spent tireless effort finding evidence against Lucius Malfoy, and managed in the end to convince the Ministry to sentence him to banishment in Azkaban. All the Malfoy property was confiscated and the assets in the Gringotts' Bank frozen. Draco, whimpering and white in complexion, went on a run.  
  
Snape was more affected by his disappearance than anyone else. He was, after all, Malfoy's Head of House, and he had always hoped to break the boy out of his father's influence. The burden of his failure to bring Malfoy and other Slytherins to the right weighed on him hard. Dumbledore tried to make him see that it was a useless mission from the start, but remorse settled on him nevertheless.  
  
Hermione wished Snape could see Malfoy now. Irresponsible and unmoved by what his teacher did for him, Malfoy was basking in smug splendour. He must have had been hiding in Goyle's and Crabbe's mansions all along, ever since his accomplices' own fathers died in the war.  
  
He smirked, 'Hello Mudblood.'  
  
Hermione replied steadily, 'Hello Malfoy. So this is where the coward's been living.'  
  
'Coward? My dear, I fear you are mistaken.' There was a surprising debonair quality in his composure.  
  
Did he know what he was doing?  
  
Malfoy continued in unruffled tones, 'No Mudblood, I'm undertaking the most courageous plot in my life. One mustn't be complacent and say in the entire history of the wizarding community. That was the Dark Lord's fatalistic flaw. You see Granger, these years of cooping up here, have made me acknowledge the truth. That we all have weaknesses. Tell me Mudblood, do you know your weaknesses?'  
  
Hermione stared at him, resolutely mute, uncertain where this was leading them to.  
  
Malfoy sighed patiently. 'Oh dear. The Gryffindor stubbornness. Well. The trick is, not to let these weaknesses control you, your decisions, your actions. They are very harmful, you know. After realising this, a plot grew in my head. I worked and worked on it very hard Granger. You would be amazed at the cunning and scale of it. I am the true Slytherin. But no, I plan to be more than that. I seek to rule, that is natural, and I do not crave immortality. Heavens, seeing what Voldemort became is enough to turn anyone off. No, what I want Granger, is power, just power. And security. The attack on the Charms Department is a small step.  
  
Why do I ask you here? Simple, I ask your help. Admitting to my weakness in understanding Charms is, I assure you, a troublesome hurdle to cross. No matter, we are here. I want you and your friend to assist me in coming up with the most devious of Charms to help me in my little scheme. A twist of the Killing Curse, and the corruption of the spell that prevents me from using magic without alerting the Ministry, things like that. . .'  
  
As Malfoy rattled on, Hermione was struck. Her sharp observational skills rang the warning bells. The ice blond student she had known, was changed. Before, an insult was enough to anger him. Now, he was calm and collected. And he was speaking in the voice of his father's, cultivated and confident. He was even smiling serenely, yet the expression in his grey eyes was emotionless. No spark lit up as he talked of ambition with pride. His movements were languid.  
  
And his talking. . . He could have been chatting in a social event. It sounded more deranged than any mental patient in St. Mungo's.  
  
'There are so many weaknesses and problems in this sad world of ours. We lose sight of them as we pursue our goal.' Malfoy continued obsessively.  
  
There was no doubt in Hermione's mind. Draco Malfoy had gone mad. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: In which Severus finds himself ambushed  
  
'What do you mean, they can't find them?' Severus's voice was dangerously low.  
  
The faculty members and some of their allies had gathered that very night in the staff room after news of the missing researchers had broken out. All of them showed varying degrees of anxiety and were stern in composure, including Rubeus Hagrid.  
  
'The Aurors have been scouting about secretly. They've also used tracking spells to check if any traces had been left in the department,' Arthur Weaseley explained. 'However, they found no clues to lead them to the perpetrators.' He paused, and said irritably, 'It's not like the Aurors are incompetent. They are well trained and exceptionally skilled. If they can't find out who the casters of the spells are, few else can.'  
  
'Yes, but what if it's an inside-job?' Harry Potter asked.  
  
Severus decided against correcting Potter's atrocious usage of the Queen's English. There were more pressing matters at hand. He let Potter continue his line of thought.  
  
The Boy-Who-Lived had finally become the Man-Who's-Sensible. The war had made him recognise the seriousness of the situation and compelled him to put aside all his personal, unimportant problems. He had fought bravely and rationally, relinquishing the hotheaded temper of his and following instructions for once in his life. Albus was proud of Potter, Severus knew. He was impressed.  
  
Surprising most of his contemporaries and others who did not know him so well however, Potter chose to enter one of the Quidditch teams after the war. Severus shrewdly pinpointed that it was because Quidditch was the only thing unconnected with Voldemort.  
  
Anyhow, though he was not an Auror, or a high-ranking official in the Ministry, Potter maintained his contacts there and was kept with up-to-date information about what took place in the wizarding world.  
  
Severus listened attentively.  
  
'You can find out what spells have been cast, and where, but with the Charms Department, it's different. I've been there before. The whole area buzzes with magical power in the atmosphere. You can't distinguish one spell from the other. And it's a laborious task tracing the casters.'  
  
'I agree,' Flitwick chimed in, 'Chances are, we will not find out more by going down that line of investigation.'  
  
'Our discussion's bringing us nowhere,' Hooch said, 'Do we at least have a list of possible culprits?'  
  
'Yes,' Albus replied, 'But I don't think our suspicions are mutual.'  
  
Black growled menacingly. 'I heard the Aurors have gone to those bastards' places, including Crabbe's and Goyle's. They've hid their plans with more credit I'll give those twits for.'  
  
'Which means they have a leader.' Severus concluded, and sank into reverie. Could it be. . .?  
  
Albus leaned forward to pat his arm. Speaking to everyone, he said, 'We'll split into four groups, each in charge of a specific area in a given direction. We shall require utmost vigilance and coordination. Harry, Sirius, will you please inform the rest and arrange them into groups? We shall meet again five days from now.'  
  
Severus watched the group in the room disperse quietly. He hated it. It reminded him of night meetings, furtively held in order to avoid both the sides' of the Dark Lord and the Ministry scrutiny. Yet they had to endure it again, for nineteen people's sake.  
  
For her sake, he endured it for two days. Then he began to believe that the Powers Above were playing jokes on them, for he felt time dragged as though two days were two centuries.  
  
He spent all available time to look for the missing people. Knowing it was useless, hope against hope, he discreetly went together with Arthur to the Ministry to work on the Charms in vain.  
  
His students bore the brunt of his frustration, as in the years during the war. His moods became erratic, and his patience worn into vapourised.  
  
In the end he learnt of what had happened to the researchers by simply being brought to them.  
  
Worried at his Potions Master's behaviour, Albus had quite unceremoniously chucked Severus out into Hogsmeade to make purchases. As he said, he wanted Severus to burn out the excess magical aura that was practically shimmering about him in his emotional state.  
  
Severus wandered around aimlessly. It was Saturday. The streets were relatively crowded. Yet somehow, years of self-discipline made Severus sharp enough to know that he was being followed. He strode towards a dark corner, prepared to attack the sinister shadow, when he found himself stunned by more than one assailant. Looking on fearlessly (for what had not he seen as a Death-Eater?), he saw two figures appear. One of them drew out a cup and Severus's hand was taken to touch it.  
  
The Port-key brought them immediately to the edge of the Goyle mansion.  
  
With two wands pointing at him, Severus knew it would be rash to tackle them. They had not hurt him, so they must be summoned just to bring him here.  
  
When he entered the library, he saw the elegant ice blond youth. For a surreal moment, Lucius took the boy's place. How many times had they gathered here as students, as friends, to scheme and laugh about the Marauders? An anger tinged with sadness overcame him.  
  
'Professor. Delighted to see you again. Such a long time, isn't it?' Even his mannerisms were like his father's.  
  
'Draco.' It was all Severus could say.  
  
'Do you want a drink?' Draco presented him with a crystal glass of scarlet liquid. 'Never let it be said that they don't have one of the best wine cellars here.'  
  
Severus allowed himself to take it. Sitting in one of chairs, he studied Draco under half-closed eyes as he drank. His former student was tasting his own glass of wine, which was of the highest standard no doubt, but he could not bother less.  
  
'What do you want Draco?' Severus was tired of the cat-and-mouse game he had too often been involved in. Moreover, he did not want to play it with the son as he did with the father.  
  
'Ever to the point as before,' said Draco happily. 'Dear Professor, what is there to be so uptight about? Can't a student invite his teacher for a drink, or a chat?'  
  
Severus stared at him. Once, he had thought him a brat. He pitied him for being under the wing of Lucius. He sought to gain his trust. He did, but it was all thrown into the wind when Draco found out where his own loyalties lay. By then, everyone said it was too late for Draco to turn back.  
  
It was foolish, Severus tried to convince himself as he gazed at Draco. The eyes, once bright and alive, were those of Lucius', grey and steely. It was foolish.  
  
Draco took his silence calmly. 'Have you heard of mine acquiring the assistance of some of the people from the Charms Department?'  
  
Severus slipped into what Draco would perceive as nonchalance. He needed to play his cards well.  
  
'I have heard of them absent in the Ministry, yes.'  
  
'You see, one should have the best minds if one is to succeed, isn't it? I have not harmed them. Yet. Graciousness is always more effective than torture, don't you agree?'  
  
'In what way can a bunch of researchers help you?'  
  
'Dear Professor. . . You cannot fool me. You are anxious to know more, but I am not at leisure to tell you.'  
  
Severus refused to react.  
  
He said carefully, 'May I at least have your assurance that they are well taken care of here?'  
  
'Certainly. I have told you. There are many rooms here at my disposal for them.'  
  
'I see. And pray what is your plot?'  
  
'Plot? Do not put it so terribly serious. I merely wish to be in control of my life, to be in power so that I can do whatever pleases me. The guests have been quite helpful. They've managed to make a certain piece of land unplottable so that I can live comfortably for a time being. Then, I can make further plans there.'  
  
"You won't succeed Draco," Severus thought sadly, "Can't you see? You should see the error in your way. I can only help you if you turn in."  
  
'You can help me sir, by formulating a potion that will enhance my strength permanently. I've been weakened from the war.' Draco announced.  
  
'Why didn't you get one of your. . . guests to do that? Aren't you placing more danger to yourself by showing me where you are?'  
  
'One has to take risks. Besides, if I ask one of them, he might poison me instead. And I can't use Crabbe or Goyle to experiment with the potion. I need them.' Draco's voice was filled with disdain when he said that.  
  
'No Professor. I want you.' Draco leaned forward. Severus was startled to see the mad glee dancing in his eyes. 'I know your weakness Snape. You will never want to harm another soul again, including mine.' He sighed, 'But to prevent you from telling Dumbledore. . . And I will know if you did. . . You know of the other student you had among the guests?'  
  
Severus stared blankly. "Breathe Severus, just breathe deep."  
  
'Hermione Granger,' Draco twisted the name in disgust, 'What happens if her mangled body suddenly appears in Hogwarts? You understand, don't you?'  
  
Unable to trust himself to speak properly, Severus nodded.  
  
'Good. Well, I shall see you with the potion when I invite you here next time.' 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: In which Hermione finds hope in letters  
  
'Granger,' Hermione lifted her head warily to see a House-Elf standing not five feet away from her.  
  
She was feeling lost for days since seeing Malfoy again. She clutched the corners of the white linen in anguish, remembering what had occurred that day.  
  
She had refused to help Malfoy formulate a spell that enabled him to use another wand in secret. Her teeth gritted as she recalled his tolerant smile.  
  
'That is disappointing.' Pointing to Beni, he had gestured for Crabbe to grab him and wring his arm. Beni had yelled in pain.  
  
'Brute strength can be very efficient. There's a certain satisfaction in it as well,' Malfoy had said as Hermione watched in horror how Crabbe threw Beni against the wall with a dull thud. Beni had slumped to the floor, moaning.  
  
'Come, come Granger. You are undeniably the best Charms researcher around. It is easy for you to comply with my request.' Malfoy had paused when Beni screamed again when Goyle started trotting him.  
  
'Stop it! And don't you dare threaten me!' Hermione wished she could pounce on Malfoy and wring his neck.  
  
'It is merely a form of persuasion Granger. What will it be? Killing your friend, or an Obliviate spell from one of my men sending you back to the world with no knowledge of where your colleagues are, or to do a simple thing for me?'  
  
Hermione had hesitated, 'You must give me time. I can't just come up with a spell as powerful as what you want right on the spot.'  
  
Malfoy had nodded sagely, 'See how smoothly the plans go, once done carefully. The House-Elf will show you your working place. It's in excellent condition. As for your friend, you will see him once you've accomplished your task.'  
  
It was a guestroom she had been staying. It was luxurious, but a prison all the same.  
  
It was here where she had been cooped up, wrecking about the problem Malfoy had posed to her. She was torn between giving the solution to save her friend and withholding her right to reject him.  
  
Now, looking at the unfriendly House-Elf, she wondered if Malfoy was finally tired of waiting.  
  
The House-Elf tossed a letter to her side. 'Master is says to gives you this Miss.' He disappeared on that curt note. Hermione frowned at the cream envelope. Picking it up gingerly, she opened it. Her heart leapt forward when she saw the sheet of paper with the familiar scrawl of one Potions Master.  
  
[Miss Granger,  
  
I'm writing this as fast as I can with the courtesy of Draco. Never mind about myself. I'm fine.  
  
I've added a Charm in order to disguise what I'm writing for anyone reading this except for you, so he won't know. Don't fret. Stay calm and alert. There will be help soon. I truly hope we will find you safe.  
  
Severus Snape.]  
  
'I truly hope we will find you safe.' A lump came to her throat. He cared for her after all. Never mind about how he came here. He had assured her he was safe.  
  
The selfish sod cared for her. He was going to save them. He was coming for her.  
  
After days of tension and worry, Hermione felt relief wash over her. She broke down into hapless tears.  
  
Taking a while to recover herself, she mulled over her options. Now that someone knew where they were held captive, she decided to show Malfoy how to use his recently acquired wand. Ringing a bell in the room, she called for a House-Elf to bring her to Malfoy.  
  
She spent the next hour explaining to him how the wand was to function. Malfoy was evidently pleased when he summoned a, of all things, a book on Hogwarts' history, and no Auror showed up.  
  
'Wonderful. Really Granger, I haven't admired you enough when we were schoolmates. But alas, what is there to praise about a Mudblood?'  
  
'Apparently, it is a Mudblood who helped you gain the usage of your power back,' Hermione could not resist retaliating.  
  
Malfoy sighed and said regretfully, 'True.' His face lit up. 'To reward you, see what surprise I have in store. Balabus, come forth. Your esteemed colleague's reputation is well deserved.'  
  
Hermione gasped in utter disbelief when Beni walked in dressed in a full array of splendid robes. He looked positively refreshed. Even the stubble he usually had on his chin was cleaned up and his wild curls of hair combed meticulously and straightened.  
  
'You see, your friend is well attended to,' Malfoy's voice was distant.  
  
'Beni?' Hermione squeaked.  
  
'Dear, dear. Our lovely Mudblood's still a little confused, isn't she?' Beni smirked. Shaking his head in contempt, 'And to think I had to work with you for more than a year.'  
  
The blood rushed back throughout Hermione's body. Her eyes narrowed, 'What's your game Balabus?'  
  
'The Ministry's an idiotic system filled with ignorance. I merely wish to clear it. We, Malfoy and I, belong to a new generation, stepping out of our predecessors' shadow. We shall conquer where they have failed.'  
  
'Are you out of your mind?'  
  
'On the contrary. I've never been more lucid.'  
  
Pieces of information clicked in Hermione's head, 'Your brother-in-law's Nott. But you spent most of your life studying abroad. No one thought much of your relationship. Voldemort's been asking him to train you to be Death- Eater too.'  
  
'You are very astute.'  
  
There was something sickeningly hilarious about this whole charade. Hermione laughed bitterly. 'I'm never going to trust stuttering men again.'  
  
Balabus smiled, with a distinct lack of warmth, 'Pity.'  
  
'Am I supposed to curtsey and compliment you on your acting?'  
  
Balabus performed a theatrical bow.  
  
'Was your zeal in Charms an act too?'  
  
'You wound me Granger. Charms is my forte. I happen to enjoy it immensely.'  
  
Hermione drove home, 'You may have an aptitude for it but you can never beat me. How else does it explain that you need me?'  
  
Balabus scowled, 'I concede that you are better than I am. But you'll always be another Mudblood.'  
  
Hermione's face darkened, 'What do you intend to do to me now that I am of no use to you?'  
  
Malfoy took charge of the meeting once more. 'As we do with the other researchers. You'll return to your room. When we move to our new territory, we will take you with us. Then, you shall discover what we have in stall for you. Consider it a privilege to be working for us.'  
  
'As your slaves you mean.' Hermione's eyes swiftly met those of Malfoy's in a staring contest. Each was stubborn in his or her own nature. Hermione reminded herself that she was still the prisoner and wisely turned away. The flare of challenge in Malfoy's cold eyes told her she was prudent.  
  
'A lesson should be taught to you to remind you of your place Granger. I was thinking of more physical. . . means but they will ruin the carpet. Not to mention that the sight of blood puts me off my lunch.' Malfoy deliberately picked his wand up and twirled it slowly. Hermione pictured it being snapped into two.  
  
'As such,' Malfoy's voice suddenly boomed with full force in order to intimidate her. He raised his wand in her direction. Hermione's eyes shut in reflex. She knew the futility of divine intervention.  
  
'Crucio.'  
  
During the war, Hermione had been subjected to numerous painful and heart- wrenching incidents. She had been injured and healed in her fight against the Dark Lord. Miraculously, she had not experienced Crucio, as had many others. She often wondered how it felt. Harry consistently shut his mouth up when they happened to broach the topic. She was too sensitive to ask Neville for fear of paining him. And Snape, she supposed he was hardy enough to talk about it despite the harrowing experience he went through under the curse frequently. More than that, she hated the clinical tone he used whenever he tried to detach himself from his emotion so as to show no one his vulnerability. It made her yearn to reach out and take his hand to comfort him, and he would probably chop her hand off if she ever collected enough courage to do it.  
  
It did not hurt in the beginning. She simply felt her spinning out of control. She was no longer in charge of her body. Then, the undiluted pain struck. She could only concentrate on it, and there was no way out. She must have screamed and those two monsters must have laughed, but she found herself drowning in this unprecedented suffering.  
  
"Snape, you better fulfil your promise and get us out fast," Hermione pressed her lips tightly to prevent tears from rolling down her cheeks, "Because I'm getting scared that I'll never see you again." 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: In which Severus takes his first visit to Hermione's apartment  
  
Severus remembered an incident from out of the blue. It was a summer day then, and she had asked him to join them for a picnic. He had raised an eyebrow, askance at her suggestion. It was somewhat audacious. No student had ever invited him to accompany him or her in their festivities or excursions. . .  
  
'There's just Harry, Ron and me,' the girl insisted, undaunted by his arrogant response.  
  
'If that is supposed to be an assurance, I beg you not to do it again. What worse outing can take place besides this with the famous Trio and the bat- like, hate-inducing adversary of Harry Potter?' Severus' bitterness permeated from him, a sign of his extreme exhaustion. The Dark Lord had previously summoned him and Severus' nerves were more than frayed.  
  
The girl studied him in that curious way of hers. It interfered with his equilibrium, for he found it soothing and upsetting. She never had that judgmental look in her eyes, that condemnation, or loathing, or pity, or scorn, or cruelty. There was compassion, and he wanted to yield to it and push it aside at the same time. Hence, he put on a blank expression to give the impression that he was unaffected.  
  
She spoke up, 'You need a rest sir. A walk in the fields will do you good.'  
  
'What I need is sleep. A picnic with those two boys will hasten my way to a nervous breakdown.'  
  
She understood and did not question more. Instead, she said cheerily, 'Well, I'm glad you didn't mention me in your assessment of who-drives-me- nuts.' Walking out of the dungeons, she said, 'Maybe someday else sir.'. . .  
  
Severus shook his head at the memory of Hermione, finally accepting to himself that it seemed natural to call her by her name.  
  
Now at Albus' office, he sat quietly while the Headmaster was processing his encounter with his former Slytherin student.  
  
'Is Mr. Malfoy really that confident you won't tell anyone?'  
  
'One of his many flaws in reasoning. He believes I will protect him, as I had in his schooldays. He's right. Albus, I don't want him sent to Azkaban. Granted, the Dementors no longer reside there, but it is still a hellish place.'  
  
'Yes,' Albus nodded in sympathy. 'However, we must first consider about the researchers. Ron can help us in the rescue mission.'  
  
'Mr. Weaseley?' Severus inquired.  
  
'He'll provide the equipment to dismantle the wards surrounding the Goyle mansion. Don't you agree that his knack of creative gadget making has finally come to essential use?'  
  
Severus gave a wry smile, 'Is it a new invention?'  
  
'Yes, but it's been tested. He'll teach you how to use it.'  
  
'So all I have to do is simply hide this. . . thing and bring into the house. I have to ensure that the four collaborators in this absurd plot are there so they cannot harm the captives when some of our allies suddenly Apparate in front of them when I activate the gadget.' Severus said sardonically, 'Three steps. Very simple. Get in alone, get out with everyone. It will be a bonus if someone's alive.'  
  
'Naturally. When can you prepare the potion?'  
  
'You don't seriously believe I will make one for him?' Severus sighed. 'I'll take a bottle of Perk-up Potion laced with toad's essence. It's a myth that the worse potions taste, the better they work. Draco subscribes to it.'  
  
'All right. We shall be ready in two days.'  
  
Severus returned to his chambers. In a daze, he walked to his empty table. He sat down and got up again. He paced the floor.  
  
It was in this state that Potter found him.  
  
'Professor?' Potter asked quizzically.  
  
Severus heaved, 'Let me tell you something Potter.'  
  
The boy lifted his eyebrows in question.  
  
Severus stretched out his arms and let them fall to his sides, 'I've got nothing to do.' He laughed, bewildered, 'No work to mark, no ingredients Albus can ask me to buy and the students have yet to return for me to glower over them, so I can't petrol the grounds.'  
  
Potter refrained from commenting, 'Good then. Professor Dumbledore wants you and I to go to Hermione's house to pick a few things.'  
  
'What? Hermione's home?'  
  
Potter chuckled, deliberately misinterpreting him, 'Even Hermione has a life outside the academic and research work. We're going to her apartment in London.'  
  
'Oh.' Severus said. Stupidly.  
  
When they left Hogwarts' premises and Apparated to her home, Severus was stunned at the femininity in it.  
  
'I'll collect the notes. I know which are the ones needed.' Potter headed to the left. 'Will you go to her bedroom to take her spare wand? It's in the drawer at the dressing table.' Potter threw an ambiguous look at Severus. 'But I think you know that.' He disappeared into the study.  
  
The living room was cosy, with a rug and a coffee table littered with notes and dried flowers. Lilac and tulips, he noted. The fire blazed on magically and merrily. Oil paintings of landscapes and pictures of friends and family covered the walls. The hints of lemons winded in the air, and the scent was stronger in her bedroom. Hermione's personal scent. He looked around. The room glowed a soft intimate orange. The bed was high and large, with silk covers were tussled and draped over the edges, reaching the floor, suggesting warmth and sensuality. Severus slapped himself to shake himself out of his dreamlike manner. Embarrassed, he turned abruptly to the dressing table. Retrieving the wand, he was about to leave when he spotted a stack of paper in the drawer, the kind she used to write her letters.  
  
Severus stood still, his eyes drawn to the ones box beside it, calling him silently. Stealing a glance out of the room, he saw Potter busy sifting through the papers.  
  
Privacy! Logical duty shouted at him. Significance! Irrational instinct overran.  
  
He took out the box and opened it. Similar papers filled with writing rested in it. There were five of them altogether. He scanned the one on top and stopped in disbelief.  
  
'Professor?'  
  
Potter stood behind him. Far from the outrage he thought he would see in Potter, Severus was surprised to see him smile. Tentatively true, but he was smiling nonetheless. Surely he could see him rummaging through Hermione's belongings. Potter's next words confirmed it.  
  
'If you want to read them, you'll have to bring them back to Hogwarts. We shouldn't linger here.'  
  
For once in his life, Severus did not know how to hurl a snide remark at Potter. Somehow, he knew Potter knew what the contents of the papers were.  
  
So why was Potter not in the least bit repulsed? Or punching his nose, come to think of it. Would he not suspect that Hermione was under some spell?  
  
Potter waited. Turning back to the box, Severus succumbed to the temptation. He grabbed the papers and stuffed them in his pocket, feeling like a guilty first-year student caught in the middle of stealing. Glaring at Potter, he dared him to speak. Potter boldly grinned.  
  
Scraping up what little dignity he had left, Severus stood tall and prepared to leave.  
  
'You forgot to close the drawer Professor,' Potter said blandly.  
  
Severus' jaw tightened. He was grateful when he managed to execute the simple task with steady hands.  
  
'Just remember Potter. I will be teaching your child in eleven years time.'  
  
Potter let the threat fly past him. 'Oh, Ginny and I love discussing about our Bruno's future. And we'll be honoured if you teach him sir.' There was an earnestness in his voice that Severus could not dispute it.  
  
Severus replied, 'Write down the time and place that you said that. Check to see if your sentiments are the same eleven years after.'  
  
Potter nodded. Walking out, he said, 'Shall we?'  
  
Severus was glad that he was able to escape Potter's scrutiny at last. He joined him back to Hogwarts. Before they parted ways at the gate however, Potter stopped him.  
  
'Sir, did I ever mention that I hated you?'  
  
'Oh, not in my face, of course. You'd probably be ashes if you did.'  
  
'No,' Potter said seriously, 'I wouldn't.' He lapsed into silence.  
  
Severus frowned. What was Potter up to?  
  
'I. just want to say how we've changed our. . . conception of you.' Potter ran his hand through his hair. It was one of the few habits retained from early youth. 'You know, what with the war and. . . Sirius and everything. . . I've never properly thanked you, or said how I respect and appreciate you. Thank you Professor.'  
  
'You're not going to hug me now and tell me you love me, are you?' Severus kept the mood light, hoping to avoid showing how Potter had stumped him.  
  
Potter smiled, 'No, I'll leave that to someone else.'  
  
Now what the dickens did that mean?  
  
Potter stretched his hand out. Severus shook it.  
  
'Till tomorrow sir. The thing is, I just want to say that whatever happens, be assured that you'll have my support, just as I always give mine to Hermione and Ron.'  
  
'I still don't understand what you're saying.'  
  
'You will.'  
  
'Alright then,' Severus thought to himself as he decided what he was going to say. *You'll regret this Severus Snape.*  
  
'And thank you. . . Harry.'  
  
Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews thus far.  
  
Abraxis: Ah well, I did make Beni as the bad guy. It just started out that way. =)  
  
Kryptonite: *gasps* I forgot Neville stutters too! I was thinking of Quirell. But he doesn't stutter much. I think he only does it in Snape's presence. Loss of confidence and stuff. I should check back at the canon.  
  
Hello Tracy! 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: In which Severus reads Hermione's 'letters'  
  
[Dear Severus,  
  
May I call you Severus? It seems more right, if I finally decide to write down what I truly think and feel.  
  
It's hopeless to say things like 'How are you?' or 'How's your day?' to you. You'll only scoff at it and dismiss it as weakness.  
  
Please, don't treat this as though it is a frivolous schoolgirl fancy. I'm not a schoolgirl and this is something I've debated about this to myself for a very long while.  
  
You've always been a difficult and complicated man Severus. I don't why I'm starting it out like this, but I need to clear out my thoughts when they involve you. They get all tangled up.  
  
I need to analyse my feelings for you. Do I admire you as a teacher? No. Do I respect you for your knowledge and skills? Yes. Do the courage and devotion you showed to the cause you've chosen to fight in touch me? Yes. Do I find myself missing your company as I've never imagined?  
  
What I'm trying to say is just. I wish we can return to the days when I was a student helping you. We seemed to be able to talk, to communicate then. There were times when I even dared believe that you considered me as an equal. All that's changed. You are so silent. You don't return my letters.  
  
I can't complain. It's a foolish thing to cling on to promise that has never been made. I thought we were friends. I admit, I wrote to you as a formality in the beginning, but I realised I was hoping I could hear from you.  
  
You're causing me anguish Severus. And you'll never know. I wanted to send this to you initially. I wanted to pour out my frustration to you and blame you for the confusion you've inflicted in me.  
  
But I can't. For all the jokes we make at your expense, no one doubts that you have a conscience under those dratted layers you've covered yourself with. Reading this will only sadden you and give you undeserved guilt when it's not your fault. I can't have that. I can't be responsible for adding to your pain.  
  
Oh gods, I don't know how I'm going to live with this secret. I fear Harry suspects it. I can't afford to have anyone know. I can't live fearing someone might tell you.  
  
There, there, it is done. I've sealed my fate in ink.  
  
Because I've fallen in love with you Severus.]  
  
The 'letter' was cut off with that single sentence and a smudge. Severus shunned from the explanation that the latter was due to a teardrop.  
  
It was the last letter, dated only two weeks back, in the series of letters which Severus wished he had not taken with him. They were all in the same vein, starting as a call to him but ending in resolute silence. The difference between this last and its predecessors was that while the latter retained repression in passion, the former abandoned all pretense of control and gushed forth with all the writer's unrestrained emotion, wounding Severus in turn.  
  
What was that Muggle phrase about curiousity killing the cat? There appeared to be an element of truth in it. He felt an ache in his chest.  
  
To have her on his mind everyday, wondering if she were safe, to remember their every meeting, to enjoy her wit and intellect, to unconsciously seek to impress her with his own. He reviewed his behaviour during her school years with despair. It occurred to him that somewhere in his life he had already accepted her as an essential being and molded his future such as to include her. Solitude was his companion for so long. She was the first person since Albus who managed to penetrate through his shield. This time, hindsight told him it would remain broken forever.  
  
He wanted her with him. He wanted her to hold him and tell him it was all right, like when the last battle was fought and won and he had discovered his Dark Mark had disappeared. Overwhelming exhaustion and relief had caused his legs to malfunction. She had taken him in her embrace, soothing him as he had wept and trembled like a child.  
  
He had resented her for seeing him vulnerable, but he had been intrigued afterwards that he did not regret her being there to support him.  
  
Was this what love felt like? If so, where lay the true joy lovers claimed to experience?  
  
He berated himself. He and Hermione were assuredly not lovers.  
  
He needed to see her. He needed to talk to her. He needed. . . He needed to find her and get this mess straightened out. Obviously Hermione was under the illusion that he was some Romantic reluctant hero. She could not fall in love with him. She could never.  
  
I can't cope with this! I can't! His mind reeled. I've never done this before. Oh Hermione, please please go away. You don't know what it's like to be me. You don't know what I am. I'll only ever hurt another.  
  
'Severus?'  
  
'You come at the worst times Albus.' Severus said wretchedly.  
  
Albus sat beside him quietly. 'Harry told me. He only suspects it.'  
  
Severus shook his head in bewilderment, as though it could cast off the reality that faced him. 'She's mad. Utterly mad.' He steeled himself in anticipation of Albus' agreement.  
  
The old wizard however, sighed.  
  
'Do you think so lowly of yourself Severus? No don't answer, I know.'  
  
'No, you don't,' said Severus in a flare of resentment, which was swiftly crushed by sorrow again.  
  
'Then tell me, I want to understand.'  
  
'You have the infinite stubbornness of your age. After all these years? Why?' asked Severus.  
  
'It's because I want to help you.'  
  
'Because you're Albus Dumbledore?' Severus was feeling bone-weary.  
  
'No,' replied Albus seriously, 'because you deserve it, lad.'  
  
Severus was taken aback. 'You and I,' he said through gritted teeth, 'do not have the same opinions on several matters Albus. This is just one. Do not let our mutual respect and. . . damn it, I'll say it, affection, blind you. I deserve all that's happened in my life. I am not a nice man.'  
  
'No,' Albus said patiently, 'You're a good man. That's all that's important. If Harry can submit to that fact, you know it must be true.'  
  
'I don't hold Potter's opinion in high regard Headmaster,' Severus countered snidely. He could not stand the wise understanding and sympathy blazing in those eyes. It was ridiculous that such an old man could possess such clarity in his eyes.  
  
'You're only saying that.'  
  
'No, I'm not,' Severus replied sulkily, but even he had to admit there was no bite in his voice.  
  
'And you accuse me of being. . . You have the stubbornness of a ten-year- old,' said Albus in exasperation. 'Is it so terrible to think yourself capable of feeling?'  
  
Severus sighed, and flung his arms theatrically, 'We should be discussing about the rescue mission. My feelings are of no importance.'  
  
'The details have been mapped out Severus,' Albus said testily, 'What of Miss Granger's feelings,' he said abruptly, 'Are they of importance?' Severus winced slightly when that last word came as a crack.  
  
'Of course,' he said carefully. He wondered just how much Albus knew about Hermione's letters.  
  
Being eerily omnipotent, Albus answered his thought, 'Then you should get down to it. She's in love with you.'  
  
Severus winced again. The strangeness of love and himself combined hurt him inexplicably.  
  
Albus kept his peace and said nothing.  
  
Severus cursed both him and himself and remained quiet as well. He was compelled to go over his behaviour toward Hermione since her graduation critically. His aversion and his stony silent treatment. Then his anxiety in learning she was gone. He came to a different perspective.  
  
'I should have faced it long before shouldn't I? I love her,' he breathed out. He thought that he would be embarrassed at the open admission. Yet it was the gnawing sense of helplessness he had felt for days that ate at him and the ache he had become accustomed to returned to his chest.  
  
'Albus, I can't do this. I don't know how to.'  
  
'Do you think all of us know how to? Do you think there is an innate ability in us that teaches us how to be in a relationship? That there is a correct method as to how to be with the one you love?'  
  
Severus stared dumbfounded. Yes. That was it. Everyone knew something he did not.  
  
Albus contradicted him gently. 'There is no how to. Love is a beautiful, singular joy. But it's not an easy road. It takes a lot of dedication and hard work. At the end, you'll find it all worthwhile.'  
  
Dedication and hard work. They had not met for years. Would she change her mind when she encountered him again? Would she want to start a relationship with a man who was an ex-Death-Eater, a Potions Master from hell, and one who was not handsome and almost twice her age?  
  
'Miss Granger is a remarkable woman,' was all Albus said enigmatically. 'I'm sure that the both of you will solve the issues between each other.'  
  
Severus wished he could share in the Headmaster's confidence. 


	9. Chapter 9

Author's note:  
  
I knew I was going to screw myself one day for not reading Books 1 to 4 for a long time. Thanks Riley Alicia, for pointing out my horrendous mistake. It would be embarrassing if I had gone on writing 'Weaseley'. So now, all the 'Weaseley's are changed to the correct 'Weasley's.  
  
As for Toots, no Saerelle, that wasn't a mistake. It was a friend of mine who wanted to make a cameo. So there it is.  
  
Chapter 10 should be coming out soon.  
  
Thanks all.  
  
***  
  
Chapter 9: In which Severus walks into the snake's mouth (reposted)  
  
[Draco,  
  
The potion is ready. I shall call on you in two hours.  
  
Severus Snape.]  
  
Severus sighed and tossed the laconic message to Potter who was lying on the grass outside Hogwarts, trying to project a calm image. The young wizard gave it a cursory glance.  
  
'That's it?' Potter raised an eyebrow.  
  
'It'll do.' Severus answered curtly, 'I'm to help him, not entertain him.'  
  
'Shouldn't you er. . . make it more convincing?'  
  
'Draco will not want to be bothered with the details of how the potion is made. That's what he's using me for. I could address the issue more prettily,' Severus acknowledged, 'But it'll all be the same. I do not add unnecessary flourish to my words.'  
  
'I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death.' Potter intoned deeply, failing quite miserably in mimicking Severus' dark sardonic impressions.  
  
At Potter's thinly veiled grin, Severus corrected himself, 'At least, under tense circumstances, and you might want to drawl on the words "fame" and "glory" more. Also, pause briefly between phrases. It adds to the suspense.'  
  
'It's positively weird to hear you give me tips in intimidation.' Potter said bemused.  
  
Severus said silkily, 'Admit it. You've always wondered how I do it. Speech is an art form, though lamentably few people appreciate it.' He seized the distraction to push his worries aside and to stretch time as much as possible.  
  
'Ha ha.' Potter whistled for a school owl to bring the message to Draco. 'How long do you need to prepare?'  
  
Severus pretended to consider, 'Well, I need to decide on my wardrobe. One has to look presentable in front of a maniacal enemy. It instills in you bravado. Then I'll take a bath and splash myself exuberantly with perfume so that you know where I am in the mansion. Oh dear, I think it'll take more than two hours.'  
  
Potter snorted predictably.  
  
'I take it you're not amused by my sudden flight of imagination.'  
  
'Oh, assuredly Professor,' the Boy-Who-Lived retorted, 'Here comes Ron.'  
  
Unlike Potter who grew rapidly to become someone Severus could at least call levelheaded, Weasley seemed doomed to be locked in thirteen-year-old frame of mind in an aging body. Not that it was surprising. Of course, initially, Potter was still a self-pitying wreck especially when Black died, but the boy was forced to shoulder several burdens and responsibilities that made him mature.  
  
Seeing Weasley scowl at him did not irk Severus. He was usually quite tuned off to childish grudges and overly charged testosterone. Weasley had shown his disapproval for far too long to affect him. Even if Weasley had reluctantly agreed that he belonged to their side during the war, after it, Weasley's negative feelings for him had returned. Now, his scowl deepened when he beheld his friend talking amicably to him. That lad possessed the most transparent face he had ever come across. Then again, he was a Weasley. Goodness knew how many of them had their education in Hogwarts.  
  
'How did it go?' Potter asked Weasley.  
  
'Dumbledore insisted that I should stay here.'  
  
'He's right. That last experiment you did caused too much damage to your physical strength.'  
  
'He just doesn't want me to get into the action. He thinks I'll bungle it. What did he call it? Hot-headed ways.'  
  
'True.' Severus could not help saying.  
  
Weasley glared at him, 'Don't need to be a wisecrack. I'm not your student anymore and I don't have to take your remarks quietly. To think I whooped after graduation when I swore I'd never see you again.'  
  
'My dear Mr. Weasley, you wound me with your unkind words.' Severus rejoined nastily.  
  
'We're here to help save Hermione, and the others as well,' said Potter irritably, 'So stop it the both of you. . . Hey! Are you done with exchanging greetings?'  
  
One older head of black hair and one younger head of carrot hair turned and snapped at him, 'Yes!'  
  
Severus shut his eyes momentarily as his jaw twitched vaguely in amusement. To be lectured by Potter. . . well, certainly he did not expect it.  
  
Weasley, however, had no such sense of humour. He threw something into Severus' lap with more hostility than was called for. 'There's the gadget. And don't say it won't work because it's done by clumsy, little me. I won't jeopardise this rescue mission.'  
  
'I did not say anything Weasley,' murmured Severus blandly. 'You're too sensitive.'  
  
He received another glare but before Weasley's temper flared, Potter remedied the situation by saying, 'It's bound to work. Ron's a superb maker.'  
  
'Thank you,' Weasley was somewhat mollified. He looked sternly at Severus, who was instinctively aware that in that split moment, both shared the same priority.  
  
'Don't screw this up,' Weasley said in a tone that could not be disputed.  
  
Severus nodded contemplatively and stood up, 'That settles it. I shall collect other required items before we meet again. Excuse me.'  
  
As he left for his office, he did not hear the following conversation between the two friends.  
  
'Will he really save Hermione?'  
  
'Ron, you know he will. There are lives at stake.'  
  
'He hates her.'  
  
'No, he doesn't.'  
  
'No,' Ron said in a rush of bewildered comprehension, 'he doesn't. Harry, is there something you're not telling me?'  
  
'Ron.'  
  
Ron shook his head, 'I can't help thinking. . . maybe that's why I take refuge in treating him as the bad guy. I mean, I didn't think, didn't want to think. . .' he looked at Snape's retreating back. 'He's. . . different in this mission. More. . . something,' He turned back to Harry who was looking at him mildly. 'Can it. . . Ah well.' He shrugged and walked to the castle. Harry followed him.  
  
Some time later, Severus was walking toward the mansion feeling more than a little tensed. If everything went smoothly, it should be over in less than an hour.  
  
'Welcome again Professor!' Draco approached him. 'I was so glad to see your note. How well our little collaboration is.'  
  
'I have the potion, but I believe I should have a form of guarantee,' Draco viewed him with suspicion, 'as to my safety of course.' Severus added with sudden inspiration, 'You see I know my weak position here, being surrounded by four able wizards.'  
  
Draco's expression cleared and he smiled complacently, 'Ah, you will not be harmed Professor.'  
  
'I want to have your partners within sights Draco. To guarantee that I will leave unscathed.'  
  
'So anxious Professor?' Draco sighed, 'Balabus will want your apology for disturbing him in his experiments, but I daresay he'll be interested to study the components of the potion.'  
  
Damn.  
  
'Isn't he specialised in Charms?'  
  
'A wizard can excel in more than one area, can't he? You, as everyone is perfectly aware, are astounding in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Pity Dumbledore doesn't see fit to let you teach it.'  
  
Severus played along and schooled his expression into one of long-suffering defeat, 'Another weakness of mine to show how much I want it.'  
  
Draco patted his arm. Using the internal Floo network, he called on his three accomplices.  
  
'Excellent.' Balabus strode to Severus, 'May I see the potion please Professor?'  
  
Severus took the bottle out carefully. He watched as Balabus uncorked it and sniffed at the contents. Discreetly, he stole his hand into his pocket.  
  
This had better work.  
  
Balabus' face twisted into a sneer.  
  
Damn.  
  
'This is not. . .'  
  
Severus switched on Weasley's gadget and chaos ensued.  
  
It was not possible for four to overcome the might of six more powerful witch and wizards, especially when they were taken by surprise and three of the attackers were Aurors. Yet the four had the advantage of being familiar with their surroundings.  
  
A whirling sound reverberated throughout the room when the gadget began functioning. In an orchestrated move, Potter, Lupin, Moody, Toots, and Fletcher apparated around the five of the previous occupants and surged forward. Severus quickly switched the gadget off to prevent the group from disapparating.  
  
Draco screeched with rage and drew out his wand. Years of lack of training and practice caused his skills to be the weakest amongst the four of them. Crabbe and Goyle made it up with their crude physical strength and sheer brutality and it took Lupin's, Toot's and Moody's combined efforts to subdue them.  
  
Potter and Severus, meanwhile, were fighting Balabus. Potter swore when Balabus hit him with a hex that cut across his cheek causing it to bleed profusely. Severus cast his own hex that was skillfully blocked by Balabus.  
  
'You can't escape!' Potter shouted.  
  
'Yes?' Balabus spat, 'Let's see me try!'  
  
He flung open a door, and dragged in Hermione. Locking her in his arms in front of him, he pointed his wand at her heart.  
  
Galvanised at this unexpected turn of events, everyone became rooted in his or her individual spot.  
  
Balabus smiled placidly.  
  
'Let's see me try.'  
  
~***~  
  
Author's Note:  
  
Got a yahoo domain where I keep fanstuff. Not much there yet, just some pictures and fanfic that can be found here too. It's a precaution in case fanfiction.net gets hung up or something. Hopefully, I can get my fanart posted soon. 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: In which Hermione finds herself safe  
  
After days of being in the same environment, in other words a big room, and not having human contact, Hermione was disorientated when Balabus had barged in without warning wearing a stained robe he put on whenever he was doing his experiments. He had cast Imperio and forced her to follow him. In a daze, she did so, and nearly banged into him when he abruptly stopped outside the entrance of what she recognised as the main library. She was forced to wait outside and had no idea what was happening. Then she had heard angry voices and interrupted sounds in what seemed like an argument turned fight.  
  
Now she knew Balabus' craftiness in using her to worm his way out of a disadvantageous but not unexpected attack. The Imperio curse was dispelled as soon as Balabus had taken her hostage. More lucid, she took in the number of people in the library. Her heart leapt when she saw the familiar faces, coming to save them. In the foreground, standing five feet away, was Snape. If she stretched out her hand, she could almost touch him.  
  
He had not changed much. If anything, she half-expected him to bark, 'Five points from Gryffindor Miss Granger. What do you think you are doing, mixing with this bunch of hooligans?'  
  
Those everlasting black robes of his still bellowed about him. Strange, because she thought the air was motionless in the room.  
  
She stared at Snape. He, in turn, was looking at her with an intensity that would have frightened her in her school years. Now, she recognised the anxiety and the plea for her to trust him. She hoped that her eyes conveyed her ardent reply. It reached him, for he turned his attention to Balabus.  
  
It was Malfoy who first spoke up.  
  
'Oh, well done Balabus,' said he raggedly. He struggled to his feet. Moody shoved him back onto the floor, 'Stay down or I'll turn you into a ferret, permanently this time!' Malfoy whimpered and glared at the ex-Auror with hate and loathing.  
  
Hermione felt Balabus' grip on her neck tighten.  
  
'There's no escape for you, you know,' Harry stepped forward and whispered. There was a slight tremble in his voice. 'Hand her over safely and give yourself up.'  
  
'Hermione mentions you quite often Potter,' Balabus snarled. Harry's eyes widened a fraction. Even Hermione was wondering what Balabus had up his slippery sleeve. There were too many against him. Even if he killed her, he would nevertheless be captured.  
  
'She says you are capable of wonders. I believe,' Balabus licked his lips and as his tongue flickered out, it grazed her neck. She shuddered in revulsion and thought sadly. *Only a few days ago, I let him hug me and felt comfort.*  
  
And she wondered if she imagined the deepening lines about Snape's mouth as Balabus drew her into a vice-like grasp.  
  
Snape was approaching them cautiously as Harry continued being a parody of a spokesperson.  
  
'What do you believe?' Harry's face twisted into a scowl that rivalled that of Snape's.  
  
'Patience, Potter. It's not one of your virtues, I know. Else why did your friends die?' The expression on Harry's face was wretched. 'I merely wish to say that it's important to know one's enemy, a time-honoured code of conduct. I believe that were you to succeed in rescuing these imprisoned members of the Ministry, it'll be an accolade to your impressive list of achievements. However, I don't think you'll want to risk your dear friend's life for the sake of others whom you've not even met before, am I correct?'  
  
Harry gave a curt nod. 'What do you want?'  
  
'Want? Is that a factor in our conversation?'  
  
Moody growled and told Harry that they're wasting time. Harry waved it aside.  
  
'Where are the rest of your captives?'  
  
'Somewhere here. They are safe, I guarantee you that.'  
  
Harry looked at Balabus intently and seemed to accept his word. Hermione was not so sure. 'All right, name your price in exchange for the safety of Hermione and the others.'  
  
'I want to return to Europe. Is that an option?'  
  
'If we have them safe.'  
  
Snape was circling them.  
  
'Don't move Professor.' Balabus whispered.  
  
Snape stopped in his steps. What he said next made Hermione want to strangle him. 'Stop your game and do not raise the boy's hopes. You know you can't escape. We will hunt you down even if you hand the researchers over.' The occupants in the room froze. Moody swore richly, 'Are you mad, Snape?'  
  
Meanwhile, a low chuckle came from Balabus, 'So exact Snape? A Death-Eater is indeed a worthy opponent. Very well, no games. I know I can't escape. You know you can't take without Hermione here coming into injury. We appear to be in a sort of impasse. Dear, dear.'  
  
'Do what Potter said. Hand her and the others over, and you may receive a lighter sentence.'  
  
'From the Ministry, known for its thirst for punishment?'  
  
Snape replied, 'We may negotiate with them. Albus Dumbledore's words hold great influence in the Ministry.'  
  
'Yes. Yet I doubt you. Besides, who said anything of myself willing to be locked in Azkaban? Before, perhaps I did think of trying to leave this place. Now I see I can't. Alas, still no, you won't capture me alive ladies, gentlemen. I refuse to be hurled away like a common wizard and treated with ill faith. I will not have myself reduced to a blabbering idiot in Azkaban. A wizard is not meant to be subjected to this humiliation. A wizard is to stand proud in the world, the very embodiment of what a man should be. Therefore,' Balabus did not go further. He flung Hermione forward and Snape had to catch her to break her fall. Before anyone could get a clear line of attack at Balabus, he pointed his wand to his heart and said, 'Avada Kedavra.'  
  
He fell to the floor and died. There was a small smile on his face, one that possessed an amazing confidence and self-assurance.  
  
Hermione was left stunned. She watched, numb, as Harry walked slowly forward, maintaining a rigid stance and his wand aimed at Balabus, poised for action. She observed as Harry cast several spells, which had no effect on Balabus. It was a corpse that laid before them.  
  
'Hermione?' She jumped slightly and realised she was still in Snape's arms. He had never sounded this gentle before. She had to blink a few times to check if it was truly his face looking down worriedly at her.  
  
'Hermione, can you stand on your own?'  
  
When she was a student, she might have misinterpreted his question as a sign of intolerance to be close to her. Now, it bespoke of his concern for her to be fine before he went on to do something else.  
  
Hermione stared at him. His eyes were unreadable.  
  
'Yes, I can stand. In fact, I'm standing right now.'  
  
Snape's nodded. He left Hermione and as she surmised, headed to Malfoy. Her ex-schoolmate was blabbering incoherently. Snape's face was pinched with fatigue and pain.  
  
'Draco, please. Your father's gone and no one will force you to do anything. It's not too late to turn back. Give yourself in. It sometimes takes more courage to give up than to hold on. I'll help you.'  
  
Hermione could see none of his advice penetrated through Malfoy's confused brain. Malfoy was coughing intermittently and laughing raggedly.  
  
'You'll help? Truly, Professor? When my father was caught, did you save him? He was your. . . your friend. He thought you were his. When I was on the run, did you look for me?'  
  
'I did.'  
  
'Because you want me to surrender, as you are persuading me to do now. Oh,' Malfoy snickered, 'what an evil this is! To turn against all that is pure in the wizarding world. To side with Dumbledore and Mudbloods! Oh, I hate you Professor, you most of all, for deceiving us. For making me respect a fake you. No one can be trusted.' Malfoy sobbed and trembled. When Snape reached out, he screamed and curled himself into a ball. He rolled back and forth. Tears and saliva mingled as Malfoy finally lost his last threads of sanity when he realised he had lost and drowned in what darkness filled his mind.  
  
Snape closed his eyes and was dreadfully still that not even Moody dared approach him.  
  
'We better search for the researchers,' Moody grunted, 'Potter, round up the two fat lumps and bring them to the Ministry. The others follow me. Snape, you take care of Malfoy.' He did not check if Snape was listening. Instead, he rushed out of the room. Harry hugged Hermione and nudged her towards Snape. At her raised eyebrow, he nodded encouragingly.  
  
'Go on, he needs someone.' Harry then left with Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
Hermione was rendered speechless. It confirmed to her that Harry knew her secret and accepted it. Glad that that guilt was lifted, she went to stand beside Snape.  
  
'I thought I could save him.' Snape sounded almost despairing. Malfoy was whimpering like a child now.  
  
Hermione did not know how to comfort him. She slipped her hand into his, afraid he would brush it off. He did not and she was deeply heartened.  
  
After deliberation, Snape sealed off the library for the Ministry officials to inspect it later and brought Malfoy to St. Mungo's. He stated quite clearly to the healers that Malfy was to be treated as a patient and not a criminal.  
  
Hermione followed him and gave him her silent support, which was acknowledged from the fact that Snape did not let go of her hand all throughout. 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: In which Severus and Hermione face each other  
  
When Severus returned to Hogwarts after overseeing Draco's welfare at St. Mungo's, Potter, Weasley and Dumbldore were waiting in the staff room.  
  
After an exchange of news and development, where he learnt that all the researchers were found safe and sound, he walked back to his rooms in deep meditation, relieved yet bone weary now the rescue was accomplished.  
  
'Ahem.'  
  
Severus started. He had forgotten about Hermione's presence. Well, not really, he had known that she was with him. It simply felt so natural he did not register the fact properly. She was standing very close to him. Actually, they were holding hands.  
  
No wonder the people at St. Mungo's had looked fit to faint. No wonder Weasley had looked murderous, Potter had tried to look innocent and Albus had held back bouts of laughter.  
  
It must have been Hermione who had signalled to them not to prompt him about his odd conduct.  
  
Damn it if this was not embarrassing.  
  
He let go of her hand and immediately regretted it. The comforting warmth that had spread across his palm and washed over his heart was slapped with the chill of the air. He dredged up the feeling when she was in his arms and yearned for her.  
  
'I'm sorry.'  
  
Hermione smiled sincerely, 'Don't be.'  
  
'Why didn't you tell me?'  
  
'You didn't seem to mind and I liked it.'  
  
'Oh.' Severus was robbed of speech momentarily.  
  
Hermione's eyes bored into his. What she ostensibly saw made her smile more radiantly. He stopped himself from squirming.  
  
'I trust you are fine,' was his careful enquiry.  
  
'Yes. You should have some rest. You look tired.'  
  
'Is that the way you greet your professor the first time we meet?'  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Stop widening the gap. It won't work. You are not my professor. You are my contemporary and I shall treat you as such. You don't know how to take care of yourself Severus Snape.' She headed out but paused and turned back, 'Have some sleep, won't you? Then maybe we can finally have that belated picnic we didn't have during the war.'  
  
He nodded and watched the door shut behind her.  
  
Hermione did not mention about her invitation during dinner when she had it in Hogwarts and Severus did not remind her of it. He thought that she had snapped out of her lightheaded state after the rescue and was horrified of what she had done. Yet her letters that remained in his possession consistently triggered in him hope that things were not as he feared.  
  
Severus was obliged to shelve his personal matters as he spent the next few days helping Draco.  
  
It was obvious that Draco was locked in his mind. The healers carried out several tests and their diagnosis was the same. Draco's mind had reverted to that of an infant. Severus knew this meant he would be spared the imprisonment of Azkaban. With his wand destroyed and his faculties stripped of sanity, Draco was incapacitated.  
  
Through Albus' connections, he arranged that Draco be looked after in the hospital for the rest of his life.  
  
When Severus visited him in his ward, he was informed he was the only visitor. He knew it did not matter to Draco, the boy could not distinguish one from another. It hurt him nonetheless, to see the boy he had watched grow up to become nothing but a figure sprouting gibberish.  
  
Life was merciless. A boy had fallen, but the world went on spinning on its axis, and people moved on. Severus eventually did. The shadow cast on the past few days lifted when he noted that Draco, whilst lost to them, appeared free because of it.  
  
The picnic held helped tremendously.  
  
Hermione had not forgotten after all. She had been busy herself together with the researchers to pick up the pieces in the Ministry but she had not forgotten.  
  
Severus found himself during the weekend plopped onto the green grounds of Hogwarts while the students left for their Hogsmeade trip, relaxed and grateful most of his students were not present to see him in the company of the famous Trio.  
  
Potter greeted him cheerfully and waved to him a bottle of authentic French wine. While Weasley decided to avoid him, Potter took pains to make sure he was at ease. Much to Severus' surprise, he was.  
  
The picnic had been provided by the House-Elves, who apparently did not know how much, or how little, food four people could stomach. Potter called in the entire Hogwarts staff to finish it, including Filch, albeit reluctantly.  
  
After a huge portion of the picnic was consumed, Severus sat with his legs stretched out in front of him and leant against a tree. He was content to watch Potter hone tactics with Flitwick and Albus compose music on the spot. Hagrid was playing from his recently carved flute. Weasley surreptitiously lured Mrs. Norris back to the castle using a sugar mouse, so Filch had no choice but to search for her. Hooch was swooping about on her broomstick. The staff declared they deserved this holiday of sorts and were determined to enjoy it to the maximum.  
  
The air was heavy with the encroaching summer scent of fruits and flowers, causing Severus to feel drowsy.  
  
He was roused to attention when a cold plate was pressed into his hands. He opened his eyes to see Hermione settle near him. He looked at the plate of ice cream on waffles.  
  
'You didn't eat very much just now. The House-Elves brought in the dessert.'  
  
'Thank you,' Severus picked up the fork and methodically worked his way through as Hermione complained.  
  
'I can't get them to wear clothes.'  
  
Severus nearly swallowed his waffle down his windpipe instead of his oesophagus, 'Are you still at it?'  
  
Hermione shrugged, 'I might as well do it while I'm here.'  
  
'Yes, well.' Severus wondered if she knew the clothes she left around would be collected by Dobby as in her fifth year. 'You should be aware you continue to no avail.'  
  
'One can but try.' Hermione conjured a fork and ate her own ice cream.  
  
'How's the Ministry?'  
  
'Fine. We're back in business. Professor McGonagall invited Ron and me to stay at Hogwarts for the weekend. Too bad Harry's married.'  
  
'Welcome then.'  
  
'Yes, well. It means I can get my letters back from you.'  
  
This time she succeeded in making Severus choke.  
  
Severus' face went red with effort and guilt. He took his time coughing into his handkerchief that he drew out from his pocket. *Think, damn it, how to handle this?*  
  
'You didn't think I'll find them missing when I went home, did you?'  
  
'I was thinking of how to... return them to you. Do you wish to have them back now?'  
  
Hermione looked around and saw that everyone was occupied. She took in a deep breath, 'All right.'  
  
Severus led the way, bemoaning and asking the heavens how he got himself into this sticky mess that was called love.  
  
When he handed the letters and her spare wand, which was also with him, he averted his eyes from hers. He could not bear to see her raised eyebrows and mocking gaze when she saw he had kept the letters in a box similar to hers. What must she be thinking?  
  
'Thanks.' He heard her say softly.  
  
Severus kept his head low and shrugged, to all appearances unabashed, 'My fault actually.' He refused to explain his actions, or apologise in the strict sense. *Don't ask me if I read them. Don't tell me how I feel. I can't.*  
  
Hermione did neither of those. She left his rooms and he was alone, forlorn.  
  
Severus sighed. He should have predicted the delight he had experienced during the picnic would be neutralised by a downpour of gloom. It was not normal for him to be happy. He cursed himself for being inept at confessing to her. He sank into his armchair and stood up again when he felt the winds change in speed. An owl flew into his room. Severus blinked his eyes in amazement. He recognised the bird to belong to Hermione.  
  
The small bundle of papers the owl held in its beak was undoubtedly those he had just parted with. It was dropped his hands and the owl flew off with a hoot.  
  
There was a smaller piece of paper on top of the whole pile. With trembling fingers, Severus removed it.  
  
[Severus,  
  
Harry told me. I guess there's no pretending now.  
  
These letters are meant for you. I just needed to send them to you the correct way. I also needed to prepare myself.  
  
How I hope I did not misinterpret your actions and your eyes.  
  
I don't know what you're thinking of me right now, but I'm not ashamed of what I feel. I love you. Seeing you again only strengthened my belief.  
  
I'm at the guest quarters. I thought you need time to consider if you feel the same way.  
  
One can but try.  
  
Hermione.]  
  
Severus read the message repeatedly, the words forming in his mouth. Grasping the precious papers, he broke into a run and did not stop for breath until he reached the entrance to the guestrooms.  
  
'Sic itur ad astra' he uttered the general password.  
  
The door opened and he rushed in, facing Hermione who was looking pale.  
  
He said hoarsely, 'Yes, let's try. Please, let's try.'  
  
The sight of Hermione rapturous as he embraced her tightly would stay in his memory forever.  
  
~***~  
  
Author's Note:  
  
'Sic itur ad astra': Latin for 'Such is the way to the stars'.  
  
coolcat411: You're right. Shoot. (slaps forehead) 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: In which the courtship starts  
  
For Severus, the weekend was his opportunity to recuperate before he tackled his teaching duties. It was a brief period where he turned to his own interests and did whatever he wished to. Therefore, he always lamented of how time flew faster in the weekend than in the school week.  
  
He spent most of it with Hermione, as they embarked on their new plane of relationship. He was undeniably tentative at first, afraid he would make all kinds of mistakes and plunge into all sorts of hidden pitfalls.  
  
Sometimes, he wished matters were not complicated, that he did not have to deal with these unfamiliar conflicting feelings. When he was by himself, self-doubt returned. He would wonder that this was a fleeting image of what could happen but was only an illusion. He wondered if Hermione really considered that a stable relationship with him was what she wanted. Sometimes, he wished she had left him alone to retreat into his own solitary life, empty but uneventful.  
  
Then when she was with him, he felt himself enveloped in such ecstasy that he chided himself for hoping otherwise.  
  
The weekend surpassed his wildest dreams in the end. Hermione, patient and gentle, understood his uncertainty and fears. Their early stages were fragile, but bit by bit, she drew Severus out of his unexpected shyness. They spent the weekend conversing about their lives, getting to know each other anew. She reprimanded him for his silence. He compensated by telling her everything and was amazed he could still make her laugh, as he had on occasion in her last year as a student. The weekend did remind him of the times they had together when they were working toward the Dark Lord's defeat, with the exception of an intimate awareness on both their part without the awkwardness he had predicted.  
  
If he doubted Hermione's sensibilities in the beginning, it was dispelled whenever he looked into her eyes and saw what he hereto only believed he could find in fantasy.  
  
During the evenings after dinner, they returned to his rooms and huddled in his armchair. Hermione sat on his lap whilst he read to her from books ranging from literature to Arithmancy, relishing her proximity. However, he refused to read Hogwarts: A History. That first evening, Hermione was exhausted and gradually dozed off. Her head rested on his shoulder and she snuggled into his embrace, sighing in satisfaction as though it were the safest haven for her.  
  
The warmth which washed over him was indescribable. Severus carefully put the book aside. Not rousing her to wakefulness, he arranged their positions so they would be more comfortable. He studied her at her most unguarded, surrounded by her scent. It was perfect. He leant against her and fell asleep.  
  
In the morning, he woke to see Hermione already awake. Her hair was adorably dishevelled and she was smiling at him.  
  
To Severus, it was nothing short of a miracle. It took his breath to know someone could love him.  
  
After his first weekend with Hermione, Severus was more inclined towards his assessment that Time was wont to keep him joyous and decided to shorten the weekend even more.  
  
Monday found him walking with Hermione to the outskirts of the Hogwarts grounds, as she headed for her apartment, holding hands. It was Hermione who initiated the latter again and Severus derived comfort from it.  
  
When they reached the gates, Hermione turned to him and giggled. 'Severus. You look like you're not going to see me for years.'  
  
'The last time you left Hogwarts was two years ago,' Severus agreed.  
  
'Silly. I'll visit more often. And you can always come see me if you want to.'  
  
'Will I disturb you and disrupt your work?'  
  
Hermione frowned in thought and Severus tensed.  
  
'I'll take you as a very welcome distraction.' Hermione laughed irrepressibly at his expression and hugged him.  
  
Severus buried his face in her hair. She was still shaking with mirth. 'You are heartless,' he murmured.  
  
'I should hope not.'  
  
They kissed and held each other for some time until Severus reluctantly let Hermione go. 'It's late. You should have some rest before you start work again.'  
  
'I'll look after myself. You look after yourself. I expect to see you less strained than you were during the past week.'  
  
Severus stared at her and once more, memorised every detail of her features. It struck him forcibly that he could have the ability to love her beyond life itself. He trusted her unconditionally. Some obscure, cynical part of him questioned the wisdom of it. It was curious though, that most of him did not care.  
  
Hermione kept her promise by visiting Severus regularly. She continued writing her letters too, for Severus deemed them precious and what started the whole thing in the first place.  
  
His visits to her were rare, since it was more difficult when his working hours were inflexible. Besides, the staff teased him relentlessly each time he came back. Minerva had the boldness to ask whether they had gone beyond kissing and holding hands yet, and he declined to comment vehemently. Much to his despair, it served to encourage the staff to insinuate more and throw amused looks at him. Madam Hooch said she did not know he had it in him. Madam Pomfrey said fondly that she had known Severus since he was a student and was pleased he finally amounted to someone. Albus was not helping to curb the remarks either.  
  
Still, Severus had no qualms of loving Hermione and a flurry of letters was exchanged under the unconcealed, watchful but kindly eyes of friends.  
  
[Dear Severus,  
  
Do you remember the notes Harry took from my apartment so long ago? I've perused them and have concluded I've started from the wrong angle.  
  
I've changed my approach and am on my way to finding a cure for Imperio.  
  
Wish me luck.  
  
Love, Hermione. P.S. It feels wonderful to write your name instead of a distant 'Professor Snape'.]  
  
[Dear Hermione,  
  
May your work proceed smoothly. I know you will succeed with your zeal and intelligence.  
  
The students are still dunderheads. You can't change my opinion of most of them. Fortunately, the Weasleys are as terribly transparent as ever, so I can expose their tricks easily, much to their chagrin.  
  
Albus tells me to ease the punishment. So I send them to scrub the dungeon walls and floors instead of drowning them in the lake and leave them to be eaten by the squid.  
  
Severus.  
  
P.S. Yes, it's wonderful.]  
  
[Dear Severus,  
  
You don't change, do you? There's nothing bad in it. I'll just continue appealing to you to treat students nicer and you'll tell me dryly that it's not in your nature.  
  
I won't want you to change.  
  
I'm bubbling with anticipation, because I've solved my Ministry project! At least, theoretically. I have some experiments to do before I can be sure. But I have a strong feeling it's correct. It's exhilarating.  
  
Love, Hermione.]  
  
[Dear Miss Granger,  
  
Severus' told us all about your development of a cure for Imperio. Needless to say how pleased and proud he is of you. The Daily Prophet has also published the news. The wizarding world will thank you for it. No doubt this will be one of the many congratulatory notes.  
  
Hogwarts has recently started a weekly newsletter. Being one of the alumni, we hope you'll grace us with an interview. Severus has insisted on conducting the interview because he doesn't think a student will do the interview justice and ask the right questions. We have calmed him down considerably after Professor McGonagall had ah, hinted the interview will last suspiciously long were he to have his way, possibly dragging into the night.  
  
So we have asked one of the prefects, Alice Cooper, to do it. Will it suit you?  
  
Yours truly,  
  
Albus Dumbledore.]  
  
[Dear Hermione,  
  
No doubt you heard from Albus. I swear Minerva gets more and more impertinent as she grows older.  
  
Will you be coming then? Or are you too busy?  
  
Severus.]  
  
[Dear Severus,  
  
Don't prickle, love. I will come. Maybe we can go to Hogsmeade if you can spare the time.  
  
Love, Hermione.]  
  
Several months passed hence in a whirl of activity. The school term came to an end and Severus was handing out holiday assignments when he saw Hermione wave at him outside the classroom. He gestured for her to wait.  
  
After the class left hurriedly, Hermione entered.  
  
'How was the interview?'  
  
'The usual kind. I've had a number of interviewers before this. Thank goodness Rita Skeeter was not one of them.'  
  
'Hmm.'  
  
Hermione stood beside him. 'What are your plans for the winter?'  
  
Severus shrugged. 'I don't celebrate the season.'  
  
'Would you like to join me in London? You've not experienced Muggle life much. You might enjoy it. There's the theatre and museum and library and all the boring places for us to explore.'  
  
Severus smiled and took her hand, 'Anywhere with you.'  
  
Hermione squeezed his hand and said tenderly, 'Good. I love you Severus. I want you to remember that always.'  
  
'As I do you Hermione.'  
  
'So you'll spend the holidays with me?'  
  
'I accept.'  
  
'Great. Come on, we have to buy some Muggle clothes for you.'  
  
Severus stirred in surprise, and then groaned.  
  
Hermione was sly.  
  
Author's questions:  
  
What's a Mary Sue? I've seen the term loads of times but never bothered to ask. Somewhere in my life I must have missed it and the knowledge of how it originated.  
  
Can anyone explain to me about document manager? I use italics in some phrases when I type in Microsoft Word but they come out all straight and vertical and very dull when I upload it to Document Manager in fanfiction.net. Sigh. I'm no computer expert. 


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: In which the story leaves our protagonists in bliss

[Hermione,

In my entire life, I've written numerous letters. I believe however, this is the most difficult one.

These past months, with you, are undoubtedly the happiest days of my life since I can remember, probably since I was born, but that sounds rather over-the-top, doesn't it? Very unSnapish as you might say.

Yet being with you has truly been incredible. It has made me aware of the commitment we've given each other, and shown me how much I love you.

Do you remember how you trusted me to make my own decision when you waited for me, without resentment, without scorn, in the guest quarter a year ago?

It is your turn to come to me now, for I'm giving you a choice. You'll see the box on your dressing table beside this letter. I'll be sitting in the kitchen, waiting.

Yes, I'm proposing to you.

The Hogwarts newsletter is going to have a field day once the students find out about it.

Whatever your answer, I respect it.

Yours always,

Severus.]

It was the point of no return when Severus placed both objects in her bedroom while Hermione was out to buy some groceries.

He sighed and settled for brewing a cup of coffee over tea. Tea soothed. He wished to remain tense.

Things had changed since he visited the city in 1975, with Hermione showing him about London. There was more hustle and bustle than he remembered, and the citizens were ruder. The Underground was appalling in its filthiness.

There were marked improvements of course. While the current fashion of the Muggle world was abysmal in taste (grunge, good grief!), the conventional style Hermione chose for him was at least appropriate and the Armani cashmere and overcoat his favourite. The latter swept about in the wind like his usual cloak. Hermione the hostess had looked after his needs well.

Although the looks some women had given him were disconcerting. Hermione had noticed them too and could not resist pointing out that they seemed to be ranging from age fourteen to fifty. She had laughed when two of them had come forward to ask if he were a celebrity and if so, could they have his autograph please.

'They are flirting with you Severus,' she had cried. Severus had stared at them until they meekly backed away, although the stare was not so much malicious as it was horrified.

The plays and musicals they had attended were magnificent. Severus was absolutely astounded by 'The Phantom of the Opera'. He had raved about it for days, to Hermione's bemusement. He had even sent the music magically wrapped in a box to Albus for his listening pleasure.

In short, the winter holidays had been fascinating.

Most importantly, they proved that he did not mind living with Hermione. In fact, he wanted it. They had enjoyed each other's company for a month and were not suffocated by it. Neither was demanding of the other nor too intrusive.

Now, Severus was threatening this very contentment they were feeling.

'Hello Severus!' Hermione called out as she stepped in with a paper bag.

Severus took it from her. 'Is it my turn to cook dinner?' It had astonished her when she learnt about his cutlery skills and experienced them.

Hermione beamed, 'Yes, please. I'm going to take a shower.'

He watched her anxiously as she went to her room. He put the paper bag on the table and forgot about it. He heard a gasp and his heart beat rapidly. He watched her as she walked out.

Her eyes were prickling with tears. He felt his throat constrict.

__

Did I bungle it? Was she happy? Did I upset her?

She was holding the box that contained the ring. It was a simple design, Severus suspected Hermione's tastes did not veer to the outlandish. The band was pale gold, with a diamond set in it.

'If you don't like it, it doesn't matter. Do what you will with it.' Severus said flippantly, unable to show his sorrow. 'I have my belongings packed.'

'Severus…'

'I'm ready to leave whenever you please.'

'Severus…'

'In fact, I can step out now.'

'Severus, it's beautiful,' Hermione said softly.

Severus made a strangled noise. He asked slowly, nervous to tempt fate. 'You like it?'

'Where did you get it?'

'Tiffany's.'

'Severus, it's…' She took out the ring and slipped it on her finger. 'It's perfect.'

Severus stared at her and at the ring she now wore, shining dazzlingly.

'Truly?' his voice was ragged.

Hers was equally so. 'Truly.'

Severus felt a dam breaking within him and strode forward to twirl her around the kitchen, laughing.

The next day at Hogwarts, where every friend and colleague was informed of the recent news, people were either giving each other a resounding clap on the back as if it were they who were responsible for the happy match, or having apoplexy and fainting on the spot.

[Dear Harry and Ginny,

How are you? How's my godson, Bruno? Have you taught him to whistle?

Thank you for your wedding present. A chess-set is miles better than the empty box Ron gave us. I think he's still in shock and forgot to put the mantle-clock in it. At least he didn't hex Severus or anything.

Severus and I are fine. He sends you his regards and wants to remind you he's not going soft in his head and will be as he always is when he teaches Bruno. You have been warned.

Love, Hermione.]

Hermione sent out the letter and went in search for her husband. She found him puttering in the greenhouse for Potions ingredients.

'A dubious honour it is to see the Potions Master dirty and sweaty.' Hermione joked as she went to help Severus.

'As it is to see a respected member of the Ministry getting her hands soiled,' he grunted as he passed a pair of gloves to her.

'Thank you.'

'Aren't you writing your report?'

'It can wait.'

'This, from our Miss Hermione Granger? Tsk, she is getting lax.'

Hermione slapped him lightly. 'It's Mrs. Hermione Snape, Professor. It doesn't have a ring to it, unfortunately. Have you forgotten about your vow yesterday?'

She saw the corner his mouth twitch upwards.

'Never that.' Severus said.

'I'm glad marriage suits you.' Hermione said sincerely.

'Indeed?' His voice resonated with suppressed amusement. 'Well, may I say how relieved I am to see that it appears to suit you as well.'

Hermione was touched constantly by Severus' subtle ways of proving his concern for another's wellbeing. Who would have thought Professor Snape to be sensitive to a person's feelings?

'You're right.'

Severus had been bending over a tiny plant, plucking out some of the pollen. At her words, he straightened his back and faced her.

'No regrets?'

Hermione chuckled, 'Goodness, no.' She gave her reassurance by kissing him back, heedless to whether a student may enter the premises.

'Does it warrant detention?' she teased.

As they continued a playful exchange of words as they worked, Hermione would squeeze Severus' hand now and then, telling him what words could not express.

And he would reply in kind.

The End

Author's Note and Acknowledgements:

Yup, this is it. I could go on but I don't want to drag this until it becomes, heavens forbid, senseless.

It's been a wonderful experience writing this and receiving all your awesome reviews, (giddy with joy). Thanks to all those who have constantly encouraged and urged me to continue.

And thanks too, for the detailed replies pertaining to my inquisitive questions in the last chapter, i.e. Chapter 12. The one on DM is a real help because I'm planning to write another SS/HG fanfic.

So please, look out for it!


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